


Bad News

by Shortandblonde



Category: Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)
Genre: Death, Hurt/Comfort, Jason is just dumb okay, Jayroy, M/M, Mourning, One-Shot, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 04:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4989823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shortandblonde/pseuds/Shortandblonde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy wakes up in a hospital to a reporter's clear voice, telling him something he didn't think he'd ever hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad News

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is just a weird little idea I had a little while ago. Hope you enjoy it.

      Roy opened his eyes. He took note of everything around him- the beeping heart monitor to his left, the crisp, clean smell, the white washed sheets and soft green walls. He pushed himself up, noting the tightness in his back and the way his vision went dark for a moment. He couldn't remember why he was in a hospital room, or why his best friend's face would be on the news on the TV in front of him. A young, dark haired reporter was speaking. He glanced around quickly, trying to ignore the fuzziness still in the back of his mind as he found a remote and turned up the volume.

      "....update on the Star labs explosion. As of right now, only one body has been found in the wreckage. It has been confirmed to be that of an infamous outlaw- the Red Hood."

      Roy felt his heart freeze in his chest. Jason couldn't be..

      "Authorities said that he did not die from the explosion's impact, but of either suffocation or the fatal wounds on his neck and chest area. They will not release anything else on him at this time." The woman paused briefly, glancing down at her notes, then back up at the camera. "Of the other victims, twenty are fatally wounded, and forty two have sustained minor injuries. There have been no other reported fatalities-"

      The TV flickered off. Roy slowly let out the breath he'd been holding, his focus falling to the sheets in front of him. His hand was shaking. Air refused to come back into his lungs. He felt paralyzed, frozen. His monitor started beeping louder and faster behind him, and he wished it would just stop. He needed to get off this bed, out of this room. He needed to find his weapons, and then... then what? He couldn't..

      "Sir? Please- I'm just trying to-" the woman cut off when he jumped, trying to push himself back from her. He shook his head, trying to take deep breaths.

      "Sorry- I- I'm sorry I just.. can you please shut that damn monitor off?"

      "Of course." She walked over slowly, quickly shutting the sound off. Then her focus turned back to her patient. She was a young nurse, with blonde hair and gray eyes. She slowly reached out to his shoulder. "Is- Is everything okay?" Roy took a moment to respond, pulling away from her touch.

      "I.. no. I just.. oh god. Oh fucking-" he shook his head, closing his eyes tightly. After a few moments he looked back up at her. "I'm sorry, it's just.. I'm not having a very good day." She laughed, and he gave her a lopsided grin.

      "I can tell. Well, I'm Nell. Nice to meet you.. uh.. mister Roy Harper?"

      "That's me."

      "So, uh.." she smiled at him, glancing awkwardly around the room. "Need anything?"

      "No, not all."

      "Well, I'll be back in a little while." He nodded, and she left. He laid back on the bed, closing his eyes and trying to clear his mind enough to think. Rationally.

\---------

      When he woke up again, it was with wet cheeks. He reached up rubbed at them, unsure yet if he had the energy to get up. But he had to get out the hopsital- he needed to leave, to find someone. Did everyone know? Of course they did- a vigilante had died, _everyone_ knew. Dammit, a drink sounded really good right now. Getting black-out drunk sounded better than having to stand up, and find his equipment. It sounded a hell of a lot better than going home to an empty apartment and sitting on the couch where they had spent the last week binge-watching Game of Thrones without Jason there to finish the third season with. It sounded better than waking up alone tomorrow morning, without Jason complaining from the next room because Roy's alarm was way too fucking loud and set way too fucking early.

      He pushed himself up, trying to shake the idea off. He was _not_  going to relapse. Not now, not ever. Roy got off the bed, pulled on the clothes that were lying in the chair next to him, and left.

\---------

      His life had gone to shit within 48 hours, and he couldn't bring himself to go back to the apartment. He feared that if he did, he'd end up downing the beer that Jason had left in the fridge. He couldn't do that. So instead he was walking down a random street in LA, disheveled and limping, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do know. He wanted to break. He wanted to drop to the ground in tears and sit there until the pain in his chest faded, and he no longer had to stop himself from sobbing into his hands. He wanted to find whatever asshole had decided to blow up S.T.A.R. Labs and make them into a pincushion.

      Instead he kept walking, and ignored his phone when it began to ring in his pocket.

\---------

     With nowhere else to go, he finally returned to the apartment. He spent the next few hours in a blank state, pretending not to hear as some late-night talk show talked and speculated about the dead vigilante. He tried to pretend that the apartment wasn't empty or silent, that Jason was simply napping on the couch after a long day or meditating in his bedroom. It wasn't healthy, he knew, but it kept his mind off the tears that were beginning to streak down his cheeks, and the alcohol in the fridge. He tried cleaning the apartment, tossing dirty clothes into the washer and vacuuming the floor- but once he opened the door to Jason's room, he walked away.

      At some point he ended up in there anyway, sitting on the bed and clutching a hoodie tightly in his hands. There was a pain in his chest, a hollowness. He shut his eyes, tightly, trying to stop the burning. Jason was _gone_ , the life he'd had waiting swallowed with it. He'd spent so much time after his revival fighting to recover, trying to reconstruct himself into who he needed and wanted to be. And just as he'd been succeeding, just as he'd finally pulled himself out of the pit and begun to walk, he'd died. He'd died, and now Roy was alone, sitting in a dumb warehouse they'd converted into a living space, unsure of how he'd go from here without his greatest friend. After a long time he finally opened his eyes, rubbing at his face. He looked up, and froze. In front of him stood the very man he'd been crying over.

      Jason's brow was creased, and he stared at Roy with a mixture of sympathy and guilt. After a short moment of eye contact, he sighed and broke away. "Roy.." his voice wavered, and he flinched. "I.. damn it, I'm a dumbass." Roy quietly stared at him, unsure if he was angry or glad or overwhelmed. It was probably all three.

      "What the fuck, Jason?" he asked quietly, slowly standing. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. Jason was here, alive and whole and watching him with careful blue-green eyes. Roy wanted to punch him, break his nose, throw him to the ground. He wanted to pull him into a tight embrace, kiss his chapped lips, swear to never lose him again. He shifted away from Jason's gaze. "You scared the fuck out of me, you know that? I- I thought I was alone, and I..." He cut off, looking back up at his not-dead friend. Jason looked awkward, but he faced Roy's gaze with an intense one of his own. He looked almost as if he didn't feel regret for the dumb stunt he'd pulled.

      "Look, Roy. I- I'm sorry. But..." He sighed. "It wasn't meant to happen like that. Those explosives were meant to be disarmed, and-"

      "Well, it didn't happen like that, did it?" Roy shut his eyes, rubbing at his face. "Damn it, Jason. You could've _told_ me. Would it have been that hard to do?"

     "It was kind of an in the moment thing." Jason gave him a half-hearted smile. Roy shook his head and sighed. He walked over to Jason and pulled him into a tight embrace, talking into his neck.

     "I swear to god you're only getting off easy because I literally thought you were dead a few moments ago. It's not going to be so easy later." He heard Jason let out a small laugh in his ear, full of relief.

     "Don't think you can sneak up on a bat, Roy. You've tried before. And failed."

 

 


End file.
